


No Less

by hollybennett123



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal, Blow Jobs, Come Marking, Dirty Talk, M/M, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3447728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybennett123/pseuds/hollybennett123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just something Zayn needs sometimes, and well - Harry provides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Less

**Author's Note:**

> I'm supposed to be working on a couple more kink meme fills right now but then writer's block struck and I lost my writing mojo a bit. So I decided to just take a step back and write whatever came to mind - which, apparently, was this? IDEK. Size queen Zayn, just because.

Harry's backstage, when Zayn finds him, somehow taking up an entire sofa by himself in a relaxed sprawl as he watches the telly; legs spread wide, arms along the back of the sofa and spanning nearly its full length.  
  
He doesn't look up when Zayn comes up behind him, but then again he doesn't seem surprised when Zayn leans over the back of the sofa, tucking a spare key card to his hotel room into the front pocket of his shirt.  
  
"Oh, s'that how it is?" Harry says, amusement layered under the slow, careful way he drags his words out. He carries on watching the TV, staring resolutely ahead, but lets his legs splay further apart, the bulge of his cock obvious in his tight jeans. His hand slides briefly inside them, adjusting himself casually and putting on a show.  
  
Zayn says nothing, chewing on his lip to keep from smiling as he walks away, because yeah. Harry knows _exactly_ how it is.  
  
\---  
  
"Fuckin' hell, you get even tighter?" Harry says unsteadily, hands on Zayn's waist as Zayn sinks down slowly onto his cock. There’s so much lube that Zayn can feel it on his arse and thighs, can _hear_ it squelching out of him wetly, yet Harry's barely even halfway in. Harry’s fucked him stupid with his fingers already, three together at one point, and he’s still so bloody massive that Zayn can barely fit him into his body the way he desperately wants to. Zayn had been too impatient to wait for four.

"Maybe you got - _fuck_ \- got even bigger, babes," Zayn laughs, and it relaxes him enough to sink down another inch, hissing out a breath between his teeth. It _aches_ , the fat heft of Harry’s cock inside him. He can’t get enough.

Harry lets out a breathless little laugh, drawing his knees up and digging his heels into the mattress to give himself some leverage. He rolls his hips up, smooth and careful and slow, and Zayn lets out a stuttered groan as he slides the rest of the way down.

“Does it hurt?” Harry asks him, keeping his hips mercifully still so Zayn can adjust. He can see the desperation in Harry’s eyes, the hard line of his jaw and the restless flex of his tattooed stomach like he’s just dying to shove his hips up hard and nasty to get Zayn to bounce on his cock.

“Yeah,” Zayn breathes. “Fuck, yeah, fucking perfect.” And it is, as well; the hurt sharp and focused, sparking outwards before dulling to a tender, aching hum of pleasure-pain. He’s so fucking hard from it, cock jerking against his belly and spilling wet at the tip. Harry gets his hand on it; gives him a slow, tight pull and rubs a cupped palm over the head in a sleek wet twist as Zayn’s hips jerk up in response.

Harry’s hands settle on Zayn’s thighs as Zayn lifts himself up on his knees experimentally, groaning at the sensation of Harry’s cock slipping halfway out before he rocks himself down again. Harry lets out a startled gasp, hips shoving up involuntarily so they slam together, and Christ that’s good, just the absolute fucking best thing.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry groans, so deep it practically vibrates out of him. “When was the last time someone fucked your arse?”

It feels like forever ago, to Zayn. God, he needs this so much. “Dunno. Fuck. Three, four months or summat? Too bloody long.”

“Was I – the last one?” Harry says, working his hips up in a steady rhythm as Zayn rocks down. “The last one to fuck you like this?”

“Yeah. That hotel room with the jacuzzi, babe,” Zayn says, scratching careful fingernails down over Harry’s chest, thumbs dragging lightly over the hard nubs of Harry’s nipples and making him writhe against the bed. “You remember?” 

Harry huffs out a little laugh in response, and Zayn smirks because yeah, he’s hardly likely to have forgotten. They’d been on a break, restless with pent up energy, and Harry had fucked him senseless on nearly every surface in the hotel room over the span of two days. Zayn could barely walk the day after and he’s wanked off to the memory pretty regularly since.

“Jesus. Yeah. You were so fucking into it,” Harry says, like he’s in awe just looking back at what they did. “No one’s had a go since?”

“Fucking tragic, s’what it is, Haz,” Zayn sighs, settling down onto Harry’s lap as far as he can get, circling his hips methodically and feeling Harry’s cock jerk hot and hard inside him. It’s not like he hasn’t had sex since then, but it’s not like this. Sometimes he needs a good shagging and he likes ‘em _big_. Like, Harry-big. It’s not an easy thing to find, especially with their lifestyle.

Harry hums in agreement, fingers flexing into the meat of Zayn’s thigh as Zayn rides him slowly. “Can you take me on your back, now, y’think?”

Zayn’s more relaxed now, stretched open and taking Harry’s cock far more easily than before. “Yeah, c’mon. Hard as you like, gorgeous.” Harry shudders a little bit at that, which was Zayn’s intention entirely. There are plenty of things that get Harry hot and bothered, and Zayn’s figured out pretty much all of them.

Harry gets his hands on Zayn and somehow flips them without slipping out, the momentum as Zayn’s back hits the sheets making Harry slide in deep as Zayn groans Harry’s name. “God, you fuckin’ show off,” Zayn laughs and Harry doesn’t even reply, just hoists Zayn’s legs up around his waist and starts up these big, base to tip thrusts that have Zayn’s knees turning weak and shaky with how good it feels.

“Fucking hell, Hazza, no one fucks me like you do, best shag I ever had,” Zayn tells him, scratching his nails down Harry's back lightly and feeling Harry shiver at the sensation. Harry looks predatory like this, on top of him, hair falling around his face and his biceps bulging with the effort of holding himself up. Doesn’t mean Zayn can’t wrap him around his little finger though. “Your massive fucking cock, babe, y’know how much I need it. You gonna fuck me how I like it?”

He gets a hand in Harry’s hair, yanking roughly, and Harry’s hips stutter forwards with a groan. Zayn pulls him down into a kiss, sloppy and wet and just really fucking good as Harry works his hips in fast, tight little pushes, balls-deep in Zayn’s arse.

“God, you feel so fuckin' good, Zee,” Harry slurs out, slamming in deep enough and hard enough that Zayn can barely breathe let alone think of a reply. Harry’s relentless once he gets going, hooking Zayn’s knees over his elbows and bending him nearly in half as he rams home over and over; Zayn’s mind has pretty much melted with how good it feels.

“That’s it,” Zayn breathes when he manages to eventually gather his thoughts enough to become vaguely coherent again. Harry hitches his hips up a bit, pulling out far enough that the head of his cock catches on Zayn’s stretched rim, making both of them groan before he shoves in deep again. “Fuck me, yeah Haz, just like that," Zayn murmurs and god he’s missed this like nothing else, his skin buzzing with it, heat _everywhere_. The pace keeps changing, slow and deep and then shallow fast little pulses and all of it, every bit of it, is too fucking good to handle. Sometimes Zayn fucks back against him, tightens around him to make him groan, and sometimes he just lies there and _takes_ it, lets Harry use him to get off.

Harry buries his face into Zayn’s neck, working his cock in deep with a muffled sound of desperation, and Zayn knows exactly what’s coming before he says it.

“Zayn, I need to come,” he says softly, rocking his hips forward and up and slamming into Zayn’s prostate hard enough that Zayn nearly bites through the edge of his tongue to keep from crying out embarrassingly loud, cock dribbling wet over his stomach as Harry figures it out despite his desperation, keeping on driving over that same spot with unerring accuracy. “Please can I?”

Harry always asks him permission and Zayn’s not entirely sure why he feels like he needs to. Zayn’s always chalked it up as being, like so many things, just another thing about Harry Styles that makes him totally weird but also hot as fuck and the best lay of his life.

“Course you can come, babes,” Zayn says, rocking his hips up to meet Harry’s thrusts as they turn long and deep again as Harry chases his orgasm. “Where do you want it, Haz? You want to come in me?” Harry whimpers quietly against Zayn’s neck, breathing hot and damp there, and works his hips harder. It’s so good that Zayn’s practically shaking with it, fuck. He fucking loves it when Harry comes in him, emptying his load into the condom as deep into Zayn’s body as he can possibly get. But then again – “…or on me? Love it when you wank off over me, marking me up.”

“Can I?” Harry breathes, wide-eyed. “Yeah. Fuck, Zayn – yeah.” He gives one more glorious, knee-trembling thrust before pulling out and ripping off the condom, breath coming in harsh pants. He kneels between Zayn’s spread legs, his cock flushed red and full and pulsing hot in his hand.

“Go for it, Haz,” Zayn tells him, and Harry gets down and kisses him clumsy and deep as he strips his cock in fast, frantic strokes, groaning into Zayn’s mouth and body going lax against him as come splatters wetly across Zayn’s hipbone and stomach. It's like a weird form of release in itself, even though Zayn's not come yet; knocking the breath from him and leaving him simultaneously relaxed yet desperate to get off.

They lie there for a few moments, Harry getting his breath back and Zayn trying to resist the urge to grind his cock up against Harry’s stomach ‘til he comes.

“How about you suck me off, hmm?” Zayn says, carding his hands through Harry’s curls. Harry kisses him and as he pulls back Zayn reaches out, running his thumb over Harry’s plush lower lip. “Want your mouth on me babe, will you do that for me?”

“God yeah, anything,” Harry smiles at him, looking thoroughly wrecked after coming his brains out. He starts licking his own spunk off Zayn’s stomach, because he’s fucking filthy and utterly amazing, before taking Zayn’s cock into his slick, hot mouth.

“Fuck, yeah babe, so good,” Zayn groans, throwing his head back and letting his hips bob up lazily, casually fucking Harry's mouth. He’s really close and this isn’t going to take long at all, Harry sucking hard and letting the head of Zayn's cock nudge the back of his throat. He pulls off enough to get a hand wrapped around the base of Zayn's dick, wanking him off and sucking harder, tongue pressed flat to the underside and rubbing maddeningly around the head.

“Haz. Gonna –” is as far as Zayn gets before his hips stutter, Harry pinning him down by the hips with his big hands as Zayn comes down his throat. Harry just takes it all, swallowing it down, and keeps on sucking until Zayn's oversensitive and twitching. Harry flops down next to him, his gorgeous mouth grinning, and Zayn needs a minute to remember how to breathe normally and use all his limbs in co-ordination. He feels high as fuck, the best kind of buzz.

When he eventually sits up and starts pulling on his boxers, Harry props himself up on his elbows to watch him.

“M’going out on the balcony for a cig. You staying here tonight or going back to yours?” Zayn asks him, grabbing his t-shirt and pulling it on over his head.

Harry purses his lips as he considers it, then looks Zayn up and down appraisingly before falling back onto the pillows with a smirk. “Staying here, if that's alright w'you.”

God, Zayn’s arse is aching and he's a goddamn mess. Maybe he can convince Harry to fuck him in the shower in the morning, and again on his hands and knees after that just because it’s been a while. Maybe Harry'll let Zayn suck him off and finger him at the same time, his body opening up hot and tight around Zayn's fingers as Zayn tries to swallow him down 'til his jaw hurts with it.

Harry’s sprawled naked and shameless on the bed, an arm thrown over his eyes and taking slow, deep breaths, looking utterly fucked out. It's a nice look on him.

“Good,” Zayn says around his unlit cigarette, stepping outside into the cool rush of the night-time air, and starts imagining the possibilities.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: The combination of working in Manchester all week and writing Harry/Zayn with their voices in mind has resulted in a lot of North West accidentally creeping into my usually North East accent. I keep saying 'int' instead of 'isn't' and dropping the 'h' from words, heh. I love the accent, though, so I'm not gonna complain :)


End file.
